


life is soup, i am fork

by JustAnotherF1Fangirl



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Basically just Lando growing up with a shitty mark and shitty friends, Birthday, Coffee Shop, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, He tries to kill Lando but it all works out, I swear, M/M, Max hates coffee cant relate, Max is just a little bitch so yeah, Minor Violence, Not What It Looks Like, So birthdays, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, also me projecting my hate for birthdays, anyway, but this isn't a coffee shop au, but we love them, i dont know, i should really learn how to tag, is it treated seriously though?, its a recurring theme deal with it, lets just say that this is an, loads of awkwardness because i can't keep scenes flowing, oh yeah, several - Freeform, tiny bits at least, yes i know the title doesn't really make sense but thats okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25547362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherF1Fangirl/pseuds/JustAnotherF1Fangirl
Summary: Okay so look, Lando isn't saying that his mark is the worst mark in the history of marks, but it probably is.The placement of it is... worrying, to say the least. The black letters curled around his neck imply that his soulmate wants to crush his windpipe the moment they lay eyes on him.Very cool.But it doesn't end there! Oh no, Fate won’t let him get away that easily. The choice of words is just as terrifying as the placement of his mark, if not more.(...)So in conclusion, life is soup, he is fork.Fucking great…
Relationships: (only near the end because theyre little shits), Alexander Albon/George Russell, Lando Norris/Max Verstappen
Comments: 9
Kudos: 124
Collections: Summer Break Fics 2020





	life is soup, i am fork

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magic_one](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_one/gifts).



> This is awkward, isn't it?  
> I talked to you about this idea even before we entered the fic exchange and you being the supportive mom friend you are were like yEAH YOU GOTTA WRITE THAT ITS AMAZING.  
> so i wrote it  
> for you  
> as a gift  
> yAY :D  
> also I really want to quote you because it's hilarious and when you sent me the message I was just laughing so hard thats why it took me like,,, 10 minutes to respond ijhjuygb  
> "ITS NOT MADE FOR ME BUT IMMA ACT LIKE IT IS CAUSE ANY OF YOUR WRITING IS A GIFT"  
> pffffffFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTT  
> also the title is a reference to [this](https://knowyourmeme.com/photos/1535537-twitter) tweet because i just find that very poetic and beautiful  
> Hope you enjoy (and please don't hate me lmao) :D

You’re born with a mark, which shows you where your soulmate will first touch you and what they will first say to you. Why? No one knows. No one cares.

But whatever, it's like a fairytale, everyone gets a happy ever after.

Okay, maybe not _everyone._ Some people are born with no phrase on their skin, but most are. Some even have several!

Lando is one of the many ‘normal’ people - just one phrase calligraphed into his skin from the day he was born. Nothing to worry about, right? 

Well, not exactly.

The placement of his mark is... _worrying_ , to say the least. The black letters curled around his neck imply that his soulmate wants to crush his windpipe the moment they lay eyes on him. 

Very cool.

But it doesn't end there! Oh no, Fate won’t let him get away that easily. The choice of words is just as terrifying as the placement of his mark, if not more. 

"I will fucking kill you" are the words written across his skin, and look, he knows the universe or whatever higher power is up there chooses soulmates for a reason, but he just wants a normal soulmate, preferably one that doesn’t want to kill him or wants to harm him in any other way.

He doesn’t get it. All his siblings have normal marks, why can’t he have one? It’s unfair.

His mum and dad always tell him not to worry about it because their marks were also pretty odd, and they turned out to be just fine! But look, this is different, he knows his soulmate hates him, he knows they want to kill him, and that’s pretty fucking terrifying.

So in conclusion, life is soup, he is fork.

Fucking great…

*** 

Okay, Lando knows that having your birthday on a regular school day may not seem like the coolest kind of birthday to most kids, but he loves it. 

The pros of having your birthday on a school day are:

1\. No family members coming over to nag about how he needs to find his soulmate even though they met their soulmate mid-thirties.

2\. Not having gran telling him how much he’s grown while actually he hasn’t grown since his tenth birthday.

3\. Not having Alex and George in his house, talking about every embarrassing thing he’s ever done in his life. (This one’s Lando’s personal favourite.)

And the cons? There are no cons.

Sure, school’s boring, but at least he has PE today.

PE is one of Lando’s favourite classes. Mostly because he doesn’t need any books and he can just _do it,_ and yeah, also because it isn’t a real class. For him, it’s the only thing making middle school even slightly bearable.

The only problem is not being allowed to wear a scarf and having to steal his mum’s concealer twice a week instead of once in a blue moon; he’s pretty sure his mum’s gonna be broke by the end of the school year from the amounts of concealer she has to buy.

“Mate, did you see me hitting Kylie right in her face that dodgeball?” George asks Alex excitedly as they walk towards the changing room.

“Yes,” Alex sighs, “yes I did, just like the rest of us. I still think you should’ve apologi-”

“It was so funny!” George interrupts him as they walk into the changing room. “I threw that ball from the sideline and it hit her right on the forehead - I didn’t even throw it that hard but she immediately started crying! It was so hilarious, I swear!”

George dumps himself on one of the benches and Alex casts Lando a sideways glance, probably seeking for moral support or something. He suddenly stops in his tracks. 

“Lando what’s that on your neck?” he asks, furrowing his brow and leaning in closer to study his throat.

“What do you mean?” Lando laughs. “There’s nothing on my-” 

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck fuck _fuck_.

Lando’s hand flies to his neck when he realises what Alex is talking about. 

His mark.

His fucking mark.

This can’t be happening.

He needs to hide it.

His eyes roam the room in search of something to hide it with, but they find nothing except for the grimy built-in locker room restroom on the other side of the room.

He sprints into the small enclosed space and locks the door behind him. He lets his shoulders rest against the surface of the door, his head follows with a thud.

He wants to sink to the floor, but on second thought that’s maybe not that good of an idea, given the fact that he can’t tell the colour of the tiles.

Instead he walks over to the sink and stares into the mirror hanging above it and _yep,_ that’s his mark, fully exposed and visible to the whole entire fucking world.

The concealer must’ve sweated off.

He places his elbows on the edge of the sink and rests his head in his hands. 

Fuck.

_Fuck._

He’s thirteen. He’s a _child._ He’s not supposed to worry about these sort of things - he’s supposed to go on adventures with his friends, go to parties, make dumb decisions, whatever. But instead he’s worrying about this _stupid fucking mark_ on his neck.

Lando’s throat tightens and he feels tears build up in his eyes. He screws his eyes shut and tries to hold them back. 

He may be a child, but he’s still a guy goddammit! He’s not gonna cry, he’s too tough for that! 

Oh who even is he kidding? He’s not tough - far from tough if he's being honest. Fuck being tough, he’s allowed to cry.

He looks up, staring at his reflection, blurred by the tears that built up in his eyes.

He lets his head fall back in its original position and spills the tears onto his cheeks.

He doesn’t know for how long he stands there, but he knows it’s a while. He can hear the rest of his class laughing and joking around while they change into their regular clothes. The noise dies down more and more with every creak of the door leading into the hallway.

He could come out, everyone’s probably gone by now, but he’s not planning on doing that. He just wants to go home. 

He wants his mum. 

He wants to curl up on the sofa with a blanket and a cup of tea and a cookie and chocolate and maybe some cake and now we’re at it ice cream would also be nice and yeah sure pizza and-

The sound of three curt knocks echoes through the spacious bathroom.

“Lando..?” Alex’s voice sounds through the wood of the door.

Well, Alex didn't leave then.

“Lando we know you’re in there.”

And guess George also didn’t.

“Please open the door.”

No.

“We just want to talk to you.”

Maybe I don’t want to talk to you.

When they get no responses there’s a sigh, barely audible through the thick wood of the door, and for a good thirty seconds he hears nothing except murmured conversation.

“Alright Lando.” It’s George talking now. “We tried to do this the peaceful way, but your window of opportunity just slammed the fuck shut.”

And that means…?

“I’m gonna kick the door in if you don’t open it right now.”

Lando rolls his eyes. As if he could do that.

“I’ve kicked in enough doors to know how to do it, Lando.”

Yeah right.

“Don’t believe me?”

Not really.

“Alex,” George says, “hold my phone.”

For fuck’s sake…

And then there’s a moment of nothing again, the calm before the storm - although, he’s pretty sure he can hear Alex trying his best not to laugh.

“Here I come, Lando.”

And _yep,_ that’s two loud thuds - Lando assumes one belongs to George’s failed attempt to kick the door open, and the other one belonging to George falling to the ground on the other side of the door.

He can hear George whining and Alex laughing. Lando softly laughs with him. Oh he’d _love_ to see this.

“This isn’t funny, Alex!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Alex laughs, “it’s just- Lando you gotta come see this.”

“Fuck, no,” George grunts. “Lando please don’t- this wasn't part of the plan- Alex NO! NO PHOTOS!!”

Okay, that’s it, he really wants to see George suffer.

He lifts his elbows from the sink and _damn_ they hurt, never doing that again, for sure. He can still hear Alex and George bickering when he slowly walks towards the door. In one swift movement he unlocks and opens the door. 

George is (as he predicted) lying on the ground, clutching his ankle and Alex is standing next to him, the camera of George’s phone focussed on its owner while Alex laughs at his friend’s stupidity. When they notice him, they both stop with what they’re doing.

George bolts up from the floor, wincing when his right foot hits the floor. Alex quickly tucks away the phone and with two quick strides he’s standing in front of Lando. He envelopes him in a far too tight hug, causing Lando to almost topple over backwards and hit his head against the door frame.

Lando tries to push him away, but it’s no use, Alex only holds him tighter.

“Uhm…” Lando says, his arms awkwardly hanging next to his body.

“Is it your mark?” Alex asks him. "The thing on your neck?"

“Obviously.”

“Can I see it?”

Lando sighs. “I guess…”

Alex squeezes him tight once more before pulling back and studying his neck.

“Oh…” he says.

“Yeah…”

“What does it say?” George asks, trying to look over Alex’s shoulder. “Is it bad?”

“You could say that…” 

“I wanna see."

Alex steps aside, granting him access to Lando. George hobbles closer.

“‘ _I_ _will fucking kill you’_ ?” he says. “ _That’s_ your mark?” George raises an eyebrow and Lando nods.

A smile tugs at the corners of George’s mouth, Alex is immediately alarmed, rushing to Lando’s side in an instant.

“George I swear to god if you’re gonna laugh-” It’s no use, a laugh already falls from George’s lips.

“That’s fucking hilarious! I can’t believe that’s what your mark says! Your soulmate must _really-”_ Alex knees him in a... _delicate_ spot, causing him to double over and fall to the ground, whining in pain.

“Ow what the fu-”

“This is not a joke, George!”

George has curled himself into a ball on the floor. He’s still laughing. “I’m sorry! But-” 

Alex kicks him.

“No buts.” It’s not often that Alex gets mad, but when he does, it’s absolutely terrifying. See, you don’t want a six feet tall guy to be angry at you. No matter what age they are, they’re always fucking terrifying.

“Alex it’s fine,” Lando tries, even though he’s kind of enjoying this.

“Yeah Alex,” George says. “No big deal-”

Alex kicks him again. 

“Did I say you could speak?” George shakes his head. “That’s what I thought.”

Lando tries to distract Alex, because honestly, even though he’s enjoying this, he’s still very much afraid of Alex. “Alex we should just go to the next class, maybe we’ll still be there on time and no one will-”

“George I feel like you should apologise to Lando,” Alex interrupts him, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m sorry Lan-”

“Get up.”

George scrambles up from the floor. “I’m sorry Lando, I didn’t mean to-”

“Give him a hug.”

“Alex that’s not-” Lando tries to say.

“Give him,” Alex says to George through gritted teeth, “a hug.”

George limps closer to Lando and awkwardly envelopes him in a hug. Lando hates it. 

“Now say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry, Lando.”

“There ya go!” 

Lando can feel George relaxing, and honestly same, because holy _shit_ Alex one scary guy.

“It’s okay, really, can you please just let go of me?”

George immediately lets go of him.

“That wasn’t hard now, was it?” Alex asks, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around George’s shoulder. George looks down at his feet.

“No…” 

“Can we head to class now? I think we should really go-”

“Now George," Alex interrupts him, "do you think Lando’s mark is funny?”

“No.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s not funny when your soulmate hates you.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you George?” Alex says, ruffling George’s hair.

George nods.

What’s that supposed to mean?

He decides not to ask.

“Okay but can we please go to our next class now?”

“Of course,” Alex says, smiling at Lando. “Let's head to class.”

***

This is not the way Lando expected to celebrate his sixteenth birthday. 

He had expected a party with balloons and something ridiculous like a three-layer cake and lots and lots of guests that would sing him a happy birthday and piles of presents and party games and those weird red plastic cups you see in American teen movies and-

Doesn’t matter, he’s not popular enough to have all of that.

George dumps himself onto the steps of the courthouse.

“Mate, this weather is fucking lousy.” He adjusts the hood of his jacket a little.

Alex follows his lead, flopping down next to him and carelessly throwing his backpack next to his feet.

“Agreed,” he says. “Lando this is what happens when your birthday’s on Friday the thirteenth.”

Lando carefully places his backpack onto the steps takes a seat next to George. His ass immediately gets soaked by the water on the steps. Fucking great. The hood of his hoodie also doesn’t do much to keep his head from getting wet, so he just decides to take it off.

“This sucks. Can’t we just go home?”

“No, no,” George says, “we have a surprise for you, dear Lando.”

“Oh god…”

“Alex, will you do the honours?”

“Why of _course,_ George.”

He reaches for his backpack and rummages around in it. After a while he pulls out a thin, rectangular gift about the size of his hand. George leans back so Alex can reach over him and hand Lando the gift.

“It’s from both of us.”

Lando grabs the gift. The blue wrapping paper is slightly moist and soft and stains his hands but whatever, it’s great to know that his friends bought him a present. Also he didn’t know his friends could gift wrap this well. It has to be Alex who did this.

He can feel their eyes on him as he tears off the wrapping paper. It always makes him uncomfortable, people watching him. He doesn’t know why, he just hates it. 

He finally pushes away the final bits of now soaked wrapping paper to reveal a neon green silicone phone case.

Huh.

Not even that bad.

“We thought it was time for a new one,” George says. “Given the fact that your old one is as good as deceased.”

For once Lando has to agree with George, his old phone case _is_ due for replacement.

“Thank you guys,” he says, stuffing his gift into his backpack.

“No problem mate,” Alex says. “But there’s more.”

“There is?” George says. Alex glares at him. He looks so confused, Lando almost feels sorry for him.

Alex fishes another present out of his bag and hands it over to Lando. 

Lando shakes it. 

It rattles a bit. 

He removes the paper. 

Oh my god.

They remembered.

They bought him his favourite chocolate.

They bought him Kinder Surprise. Those weird chocolate egg thingies with little toys inside them.

He loves these things.

He loves his friends.

He hugs the one that's closest to him - who happens to be George - and squeezes him as close as possible.

“Thank you so much!” he says. George awkwardly pats him on his shoulder.

“No problem.”

“Can I get a hug too?” Alex asks, pouting. “I was obviously the one that bought it for you.”

“Of course!” Lando climbs over George, earning a huff, and wraps his arms around Alex’s neck.

“Thanks Alex.”

“My pleasure, kid.”

Lando pulls away from him and settles back into his original spot next to George. He opens the box of chocolate and after a lot of struggling he finally manages. He breaks a piece off the egg and pops it into his mouth.

“You know what,” Alex says, “maybe this isn’t even that bad.”

“Disagreed,” George says. 

“And why is that?”

“Mate,” he says, “this weather.”

“It’s just a little bit of rain.”

“It’s fucking pouring, mate.”

“Still just rain.”

“Alex,” George says, “Alex look at me. I’m soaked from head to toe and so are you.”

“It’s really not that bad.”

“It _is.”_

“You’re just complaining because you can’t be shirtless.”

“Alex, I can always be shirtless.”

“Then do it, take off your shirt.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, you don’t deserve to see my godly body.”

Alex scoffs.

“Oh Alex, don’t give me that,” George says. “You _love_ it when I’m shirtless, Alex, you absolutely _love-_ ”

“I don’t, I really don’t,” Alex says. George pats his knee.

“Nice try.” And then it’s silent.

Just three guys silently sitting in the rain.

Probably catching pneumonia. 

Not weird at all.

You know what, Lando’s has to agree with Alex. He’s actually quite enjoying himself. Apart from the fact that literally every single part of his body is fucking drenched and cold and he’s shivering like hell, it’s actually not that bad.

“Hey,” George says, pointing at someone walking down the street **,** “that could be your soulmate, Lando.” He snorts at his own joke.

The guy has pulled the hood of his jacket far over his head. Lando’s sure that it is to protect himself from the rain, but Lando has to agree with George that it does make the guy look a bit dodgy.

Alex laughs with him and bumps his shoulder against George’s.

“Maybe that’s your soulmate,” Alex says, pointing at another guy across the street. “He looks suspicious enough.”

Lando laughs halfheartedly, shoving another piece of wet chocolate into his mouth. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Oh and what about that one,” George says, scooting a little bit closer to Alex and pointing at a homeless person helplessly trying to keep a piece of cardboard from getting soaked by the rain. 

“Maybe we should help him,” Lando says, because, unlike his friends, he isn’t as empathetic as one of those plastic thingies at the end of a shoelace.

“And what about that woman over there?”

“Oh and maybe him.”

“Perhaps she would like to strangle you!”

“Alex, look! Another one.”

And so it goes on for surely half an hour. 

Look, Lando has heard a lot of jokes about his soulmate from his siblings, so at least he should be used to it, right?

No, not at all. This shit just hurts, it always does and it always will. 

See, he would lie if he’d say he doesn’t like his friends, but sometimes they really just need to shut the fuck up.

Lando looks down at his hands as he feels tears welling up in his eyes. 

Fuck, he really hates his mark.

And his friends.

Sometimes. 

Okay, most of the time.

It could be a raindrop, but he’s pretty sure he felt a tear drop onto his hand, soon followed by another.

Then he feels another.

And another.

And another.

And another

Nope, those are tears. Those are definitely tears.

Another.

Another.

Another.

And then he’s just straight up crying. He _hates_ this and he _hates_ his friends and he _hates_ the way they joke about his mark.

He pulls the sleeves of his jacket over his hand and wipes the tears from the other hand.

“-I’m pretty sure that one’s holding a knife!” George laughs beside him, an arm draped over Alex’s shoulder as he points at a big guy crossing the road.

“Or maybe it’s a gun!” 

“No, that’s definitely a knife.”

“How can you be so sure? He’s, like, 20 metres away from us.”

“I saw steel flashing.” 

“Sure you did.”

“I _did!”_

Alex straightens his back and looks over George’s head so he can look at Lando. “What do you think- Oh my god are you crying?”

Lando wipes at his eyes. “No!” 

Alex untangles himself from George and stands up so he can sit beside Lando. He puts his arm around his shoulder and pulls him closer in some sort of side hug. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

“Is he crying? Oh my god, he _is._ ”

“I’m _not_!!” Lando says again, trying to keep his voice from wavering and surprisingly enough he succeeds. “Alex let go of me!”

Alex puts his other arm around him as well and squeezes him so tight he’s pretty sure he’s going to suffocate.

“I’m so so sorry Lando, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I really didn’t, I swear! George and I were just joking and we-”

“Alex stop apologising.” He tries to push him away but see, Alex is a big guy, way stronger and taller than him, so it’s no use, really.

“No,” he says, hiding his face in Lando’s wet curls. 

George scoots closer to Lando and snakes his arms around his hips and also hugs him tight. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off.”

Lando is not sure how it’s even possible, but George and Alex hug him even tighter and he can barely fucking breathe.

So this is how he’s going to die.

Not because of his soulmate.

But because of his friends hugging him to death.

He must say he’s surprised. He didn’t know they could show this much affection.

“Please don’t hate us,” George whispers and Lando tries to sigh, but see, these guys are hugging him so tightly he’s pretty sure they’ve shattered his ribs and little bits of bone are just impaling his lungs right now.

“Please,” Alex says.

“Won’t. Just. Fuck off. Can't breathe.”

“Oh.”

George and Alex pull away and look at him expectantly. Lando has no idea what they’re expecting him to do so he just sits there, looking down at his lap for like, forever.

“Maybe I don’t want to meet my soulmate.” It’s out before he notices. He doesn’t even know where it comes from. Yeah, sure, he’s thought about it a few times, but he never really meant to say it out loud.

“Oh Lando…” Alex says and then it’s silent again, raising his hand to place it on Lando's shoulder, only to drop it again a few seconds later.

Wow.

He’s cold.

Like really cold.

Freezing.

His pants are fucking soaked and the fabric sticks to his skin. His socks are also wet, which is fucking great and feels absolutely nasty.

He wants to go home.

“You know the universe chooses your soulmate for a reason, right?” George says suddenly.

“Yeah, of course, but it’s just…” He doesn't finish the sentence because he doesn't actually know what he was trying to say. “What do your marks say? Because now that I think about it I’ve never seen them.”

George and Alex exchange a look. 

“I’d rather not say,” George says eventually.

“Yeah, me neither,” Alex says as well.

“Uhm… okay,” Lando says. 

Huh, weird.

Could it be that they…?

No, they would’ve told him.

Right?

He decides not to think about it any more.

“Maybe we should go home,” George says, flexing his fingers. “I can’t feel my fingers.”

“Same,” Alex says, getting up. He extends his hand to help Lando up. Lando gratefully accepts it and hoists himself up.

“Fucking finally.”

So, that’s the most horrible birthday he’s ever had.

But at least his friends were nice.

For a bit.

***

Max is absolutely fucking done with the day.

The coffeehouse is so fucking cramped and loud and he is very, _very_ close to killing someone. 

After weeks of staying inside playing COD, Daniel had dragged him outside to ‘get his pale ass tanned’ by going for a run.

But of fucking course, the weather had to screw him over that one day he went outside

When it suddenly started fucking pouring, they had run into a nearby shop, and of course it had to be a fucking coffeehouse. 

He really doesn’t like coffeehouses, they always reek of coffee and… well… doesn’t matter, Max just really doesn’t like coffee, which makes it hard for him to like coffeehouses. It’s as simple as that.

And look, he’s not saying he hates being around people, but to be fair, he hates being around people. They’re always so... how do you say that again? Oh yeah, _annoying._

He sighs.

This really fucking sucks.

The door opens and a gush of cold air entered the shop together with three guys. He looks at them. 

Two of the three are tall, like, very tall, and the other one is just fucking _tiny_ compared to his friends. They look about 20 years old.

One catches him looking - the tiny one - and smiles at him. It’s a soft, quick smile and even though Max is sitting at least 5 metres away from him, he could _swear_ he saw a dimple creasing the boy’s cheek and he looks so cute if only Max could just-

“Staring is rude, Maxy,” someone says suddenly, dumping themselves onto the chair next to him.

Max’s head snaps to the side and sees Dan happily sipping an iced coffee through one of those ridiculous plastic straws. Max thinks he looks like one of those rich high school girls.

“Shut up,” he says half-heartedly, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands. He’s so fucking _cold._

“You want?” Dan asks, holding up another cup with coffee that Max somehow hadn’t noticed.

“I hate coffee, remember?” He looks down at his hands and starts playing with the loose strands of his hoodie.

“Yeah, I remember.” Dan slides him the cup with his signature shit-eating grin. “That’s why I got you hot chocolate.”

Max gratefully wraps his fingers around the cup, the warmth that filters through the plastic of it and the fabric of his hoodie slowly heating up his hands.

“Thanks,” Max mutters. “But I’m still mad at you.” 

Dan shrugs.

“That’s alright,” he says carelessly. “It’d be a wonder if you weren’t mad for once.”

Max glares at him and sips from his drink, only to burn his mouth and curse under his breath.

Dan chuckles softly and lets his head rest against the window behind them with a small thud.

“Who were you just looking at?” 

“Just some guys entering the shop,” he says, playing with the straw. Daniel hums softly.

“Just some guys, huh?” 

Max gives him a quick glance and sees Daniel wiggle his eyebrows at him. He huffs annoyedly and searches the room for the guys. He spots them laughing at the counter, ordering drinks.

The one that smiled at him catches him looking (again) and smiles at him (again).

Max can’t see his eye colour, but they’re either green or blue - or a mix between the two, he really can’t tell. Max smiles back at the guy. He still catches a glimpse of a blush before the guy ducks his head and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“He’s cute,” Dan says, his face only inches away from his own, sitting on the edge of his seat just so he can see who Max is looking at.

Max puts his hand on his face and pushes him away, grumpily taking another sip of his hot chocolate. Dan licks his hand.

“Eww Dan what the fuck!” Max exclaims, wiping his hand on Dan’s sweater. “How old are you?”

Dan just laughs. Max grabs his cup and brings the straw to his mouth, taking a sip again and glaring at Dan.

“Are you gonna talk to him?” Dan asks, cocking his head slightly. Max shrugs.

“Don’t know.”

“You should.”

“Nah.”

“You should,” Dan repeats.

Max shakes his head, taking another sip.

“You should.”

Max looks at Dan, slowly turning his head to the side.

“ _No_.” He says it slowly, drawing out the o.

“But you _should.”_

“Dan I swear to god I will kill you if you say that _once_ more.” Dan smirks at him.

“You shou-” Dan stops mid-sentence when his eyes dart to something across the table. His mouth still forming a perfect ‘o’ from not finishing his sentence and his eyes growing a little wider. The ‘o’ transforms into a smile.

“What?” Max asks confusedly. Dan doesn’t answer, he only curtly nods in the direction he’s looking.

Max turns his head, finally seeing what - or rather said who - Dan is looking at.

It’s the guy from before, the guy that smiled at him. Twice.

Oh god, he’s even cuter up close. There seem to be thousands of freckles scattered across his face. The guy smiles at him and he _knew_ he saw a dimple before, and it’s so cute, Max just wants to put his pinky in this guy’s dimple. Is that weird? It probably is. But whatever.

The guy laughs nervously, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet the corners of his mouth. 

“Hi,” the guy says.

Did he just-

Did he really just-

Oh my _fucking_ god.

He’s going to kill this bitch. 

He stands up, curls his fingers around the guy’s throat and slams him against the nearest wall.

”I will fucking kill you.”

The shop is buzzing with sound but he doesn’t care.

He’s absolutely fucking done with everyone saying hi to him. Of course they don’t know that it’s what his mark says, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be fucking pissed about it.

He can feel Daniel trying to drag him away from this little bitch, but he simply pushes him away with his other hand.

He has nice eyes. They’re blue, he can see that now. It’s a shame he’s such a prick.

“Oh my god,’ the little bitch says. “ _Oh my god.”_ He starts squirming around, hands groping at Max’s arm, helplessly trying to free himself from the death grip around his neck. “George! Alex!”

Max should’ve seen them coming, but he’s too focussed on keeping the little fucker to just keep still in his fucking hands to even register one of the guys punching him on the nose.

He stumbles to the side, hitting the table next to him in progress. The fingers of his left hand curl around the edge of the table to anchor himself, his right hand clutches his nose. 

It hurts.

It hurts a lot.

His eyes start watering.

He thinks it’s broken, but he doesn’t know. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, it’s not like he has got a lot of experience with broken noses. Is that blood he feels? 

He wipes at his nose and studies his hand. Yep, that’s blood, that’s definitely blood. He wipes it on his jeans and looks to his right to see the two loser friends of that little shit. One (he assumes it’s the one that punched him) looks ready to strike again, the other is fussing over that little cunt. Dan appears in front of him, shielding him from the three guys.

“What the fuck was that?” Dan hisses at him.

“He said hi to me!” he says heatedly. “Dan you know what my mark says! I had all right to kill the little twat!”

“Max he’s just a random person, he doesn’t know shit about your mark!”

“Yeah, well, he _should,”_ he says. “I don’t want to get my hopes up every time I hear someone say fucking hi to me!”

“Max I get that,” Dan tries to soothe him, placing his hands on his shoulders. Max pushes it off, “but he’s just a guy trying to introduce himself to you.”

“That’s the whole fucking problem! I don’t want people introducing themselves to me if that means they’re gonna say hi!” He looks over Dan’s shoulder and see’s the little dickhead being pinned against the wall by his two loser friends. 

“Max,” Dan says, trying to draw his attention away from the little wanker behind him again.

Oh Max could kill that little _shit,_ he really fucking could. With his stupid curls, and his stupid smile, and his stupid eyes, and his stupid freckles. 

Stupid bitch.

The little jackass somehow manages to free himself from his loser friend’s grip and he runs in Max’s direction, pushing Dan out of the way.

The little shit cups his face in his hands and smashes their mouths together. Max freezes.

What the fuck?

Has this kid gone insane?

His lips are soft though.

Wait...

Is he dreaming?

Is this all just a dream?

He’s not sure.

The guy pulls away and beams at him.

“You’re my soulmate,” he whispers, hands still cradling his jaw.

Max pushes him away. “I’m your _what now?_ ” 

What the fuck is this guy thinking? Has he slammed him too hard against the wall? 

“You’re my soulmate!” he repeats, laughing this time. He rakes his fingers through his damp curls.

“I think you’re confused.” All anger has drained from his body and is now replaced by concern. Did he just give this guy a concussion? 

“No no, look!” He pushes the collar of his turtleneck down to reveal… his neck?

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh so my mark _is_ gone!” the guy beams at him. “Look at your own mark!”

Max hesitantly looks down at his hands and _yep_ , his mark gone. 

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god he just tried to kill his soulmate, no biggie, no biggie at all.

How does this guy not hate him?

He pushes his hand into the pocket of his jeans and looks up again.

“What did your mark read?” the guy asks him. He looks so happy, so excited.

“Uhm… it read what you told me,” Max says. 

“And that is…?”

“You don’t remember?”

“...No?” He laughs nervously, his tongue flicking out again to wet the corners of his mouth. So it’s a habit then.

Max pinches the bridge of his nose. This guy is even dumber than him. Or he really slammed him too hard against that wall...

“It read ‘hi’,” he says. “You said ‘hi’ to me.

“Oh,” the guy says,” that’s lame.”

“Yeah...”

The silence washes over them because neither know what to say or how to act. I mean, it’s not every day that you try to kill your soulmate or you almost get killed by your soulmate.

After a while Max awkwardly clears his throat. “So what did your mark say?” It’s not that he doesn’t know, it’s just that he needs to keep this conversation going.

“‘I will fucking kill you’.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” The guy bites his lip.

“Uhm…” Max says, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “Sorry, I guess.”

“Is alright,” the guy says.

And then the conversation falls silent again.

Fuck.

“Hey err…” the guy starts, “what’s your name?”

Oh yeah...

“Max.”

“Oh, okay,” the guy says, his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Cool name.”

“Thanks,” Max says, following the guy’s lead and stuffing his hands into his pockets as well. “You?” 

“Lando.”

“As in the Star Wars character?” What the fuck? Did he really just ask that? Why is he such an idiot?

“Err… no.”

“Oh,” he says dumbly. “Well, uhm, nice to meet you, Lando.” He extends his hand and the guy - Lando - _his soulmate -_ shakes it.

“Likewise, Max.”

***

It’s on days like these that Lando wonders why he ever was afraid of his soulmate, because he surely isn’t anymore - Max is by far the best thing that has ever happened to him.

After only three months full of late-night texts and facetimes, a couple of awkward dates, a game of twister, lots of COD and one double date with Alex and George, they decided it was time to move in together.

His twenty-first birthday is the best birthday he’s ever had.

He has his friends.

He has eaten a big-ass cake he could barely even afford.

He has his Playstation.

And most importantly, he has his soulmate sitting right next to him on the sofa playing COD.

Everything seems to be so much better since he met Max. 

Sure, that afternoon at the coffeehouse was a bit awkward, but at least he didn’t get killed like he thought he would. 

His soulmate turned out to be a pretty chill guy after all.

“There’s a guy there!” Alex says.

“Where?”

“Right there, behind the tree,” George says, pulling Alex closer to his chest.

“Mate, I don’t see him!”

“He’s literally right there!”

“I don’t see shit!” Max’s fingers fly over the little buttons and joysticks of the controller as he tries to find who Alex and George are talking about.

“Max he’s right there!” Daniel says, pointing at the screen from his position on the leather chair.

“Dan I don’t see-” He gets shot three times. He’s dead. “FUCK!”

“Ha you suck!” Lando says and Max glares at him. Lando quickly plants a few kisses below his jawline. “Don’t cry.”

“Shut up.”

“Aww,” Daniel says, “Verstappen’s mad. How cute.”

“Shut _up.”_

“Or else?” George says. “You gonna cry?”

“Lando, tell them to behave.”

“You really think they’ll listen?”

“You’ve got a point there.”

“I’m bored,” Daniel says, grabbing a handful of crisps out of the bowl on the coffee table. “ You’re boring. Your party’s boring.”

“That’s because you’re a fifth wheel.”

“Exactly.” He grabs another handful of crisps. “Also your beer sucks.”

“Bring your own beer then,” Lando says. “I’m a student. I’m broke. I don’t have money for good beer. And besides, I don’t drink beer.”

“Another addition to the never-ending list of why Lando Norris is boring.”

Lando yawns.

“Aww, someone’s tired,” Alex coos. 

“Yeah, someone kept me up all night,” Lando says, smirking at Max.

“Gross,” Dan says. “You guys are all sinners.”

“As if you’re any better,” Max says.

“Oh, I’m not saying I am,” Daniel says, “but at least I don’t have premarital sex with people.” 

“Dan, you sleep with every stranger you meet, what do you mean no premarital sex?”

“It ain’t premarital sex if you don’t get married.”

“Wow,” Lando says, “I almost laughed.”

“YOU’RE BORING.”

“I’m not-”

“BOOOORING.”

“Are we sure this guy doesn’t need any help?” George asks.

“Yeah, this is just his way of expressing his love for his friends,” Max answers.

Daniel, meanwhile, has grabbed the bowl off of the coffee table and is aggressively stuffing his face with crisps.

“On second thought,” Max says, “maybe he does need help.”

“Done,” Daniel says with a grin, placing the emptied bowl back onto the coffee table.

“You ate all of them?” George asks.

“Yep,” Daniel says like a proud toddler.

“Max,” George says. “We’re out of crisps.”

“That’s your problem,” Max answers, lying down on the sofa and motioning Lando to lay on his chest. Lando’s happy to comply.

“Well then,” George says, grabbing the empty bowl, “guess I’m going to the kitchen.”

“Yeah.” Alex bolts up from the sofa, “me too.”

They rush into the kitchen.

Lando lifts his head from Max’s chest.

“NIET NEUKEN IN DE KEUKEN,” he screams after them and Max smiles.

“JOKE’S ON YOU I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS,” George screams back.

“I raised you well,” Max murmurs, pressing a kiss into his curls as Lando lays his head back again.

“Definitely,” he agrees.

The sound shattering glass comes from the kitchen, ensued by nervous giggling and a “GEEEOOOORRGGEEEEEE” from Alex.

Lando sighs and pulls back from Max’s embrace, holding himself up with his lower arms.

“You go look,” they say at the same time.

“Aww come on! Pleeeease,” Lando says, giving Max his best puppy eyes.

“No.”

“Okay, well it’s your apartment,” Lando says.

“You live here too,” Max retorts.

“You pay half of the rent.”

“You pay the other half.”

“I did the dishes last night.”

“I cleaned the toilet.”

“I hoovered the whole apartment.”

“You only did it because I told you so.”

“But I _did_ hoover the apartment.”

“I paid for pizza on Tuesday.”

“I paid for pizza on Saturday.”

“I did the groceries for this week.”

“I did them last week.”

“I did them the week befo-”

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ,” Daniel says, getting up from his chair on the other side of the room. “I’ll go look, okay? Please just stop doing... whatever the fuck that is.” And with that Max and him are alone in the living room.

Lando gives Max a quick peck on the lips before resting his head on Max’s chest again. The sound of Max's heartbeat makes his eyes involuntarily fluttering closed. He smiles. 

How did he ever get this lucky?

“I love you,” he says, snuggling closer into Max’s chest.

“I love you too, idiot.” Max presses a kiss to the top of his head. Lando sighs contentedly.

He was wrong.

Life may be soup, but he’s definitely a spoon.

A comically large spoon.

**Author's Note:**

> wow that was a fucking rOLLERCOASTER wasn't it?
> 
> hope you enjoyed :D
> 
> Also: "Niet neuken in de keuken" means "no fucking in the kitchen" and you can hear lando saying it right [here](https://youtu.be/U0_ndTH2Oqk) lmao max taught him this you cant convince me otherwise
> 
> and yes, yes i did just combine two unrelated memes to end a fanfiction shut up
> 
> comments and kudos are always welcome and so are tips and feedback because I have about a third of a brain cell and no idea what I'm doing :)
> 
> (also amy i really wanna know if you saw this coming because I suck at keeping secrets)


End file.
